Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry
by FloppyWandedDementorBuggerer
Summary: DISCONTINUED! Sorry, my muse is hindered! What if Harry Potter never went to Hogwarts and created a false reality to cope with living under the stairs? Full summary inside.
1. Chapter 1

"Of course it is happening inside your head, Harry,

…but why on earth should that mean that it is not real?" What if Harry Potter never went to Hogwarts and created a false reality to cope with living under the stairs?

I do not own Harry Potter and this idea was borrowed by some meme I saw.

*In this story magic, Hogwarts and all the magical characters do not exist. They are existent but they are complete strangers who, in Harry's mind, are the people in the stories of 'Harry Potter'. His parents did die of a car crash, which is how he got his scar. Please tell me what you think and if I am portraying this well, as I am not entirely sure how the whole 'false reality' matter works.

Oh, and there will be no slashes in this. No romance at all. But, in the future, possibly some mushy stuff and maybe some alternate endings to tickle everyone's fancy.

* * *

Chapter One

As Harry sat up this morning, he hit his head on the ceiling and knew that he was growing. He thought he'd stopped growing since everyone called him so short or puny, so this was a slight surprise. He rubbed the top of his head as he carefully stood up and put his glasses on, which was entirely pointless since the room was so dark. There were no windows, the door was sealed tight and they had taken all of his light sources. Being in the dark constantly made his eyes sensitive to light, so he didn't mind staying inside if he could help it.

Harry looked at his little clock and saw that it was only four o'clock in the morning and sighed, he wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep.

Harry took his idle glasses off and lay back down on his bed and closed his eyes. He was only ten years old, he'll be eleven in a few days not that anyone cared. He barely did. But, it was another sign he was living and, in a way, prospering. He touched his scar in the darkness and felt the slight contrast it made, the scarred skin against the soft skin. He never remembered what happened except the scream of a woman, who he presumed was his mother, and a green light, which he presumed as a green light.

Harry opened his eyes though he still saw the light in his emerald eyes. The sound of the scream was the only memory of the two people in the world who loved him, the only people who cared. It hurt too much to dwell on this, though he couldn't help it. They were always on his mind, he was constantly reminded of how his drunken parents took died and left him, a miserable good-for-nothing brat, on the doorstep of the Dursley's.

_Stop it._ Harry thought to himself. _Stop thinking. Please._

It hurt so bad to think, but it was the only stimulation Harry had at this time in the morning; he couldn't get out of the cupboard since the door was locked and he had no toys or playthings. Once, he resorted to hitting his head against his headboard until he fell asleep. Or maybe he passed out… He wasn't sure.

Harry sighed and began to do the only thing he could think of. Imagine. When he had a light he used to read books he'd borrow from the library all night. He would escape and be able to live another's life, feel another's pain and not worry about himself for a while. Of course, when he'd be tired the next morning his chore doing would be up to par and soon enough Aunt Petunia and her huge nose found Harry's stash of books.

He began to think about his eleventh birthday and how it could possibly be significant compared to everything else for a story of his own. But how does one get accepted into a private school? A letter would suffice… but not one delivered by the post… an owl could deliver it.

Perhaps it could be a year that he was accepted into a school, a large private school that was far, far away. Called… Hogwarts.

Harry smiled at the name of the school and it's hilarity and absurdness. What a name for a school! The name in itself was gross, which made it all the better. Originality was the key to a perfect world in Harry's mind; it made it more exciting, fun and enjoyable. This was all he wanted: a happy place where he could talk to people who liked him, a place where his ambitions were encouraged and his success rewarded.

A place where he was loved.

* * *

**This is the introduction; the next chapter will be longer, by far!**

… **If I get positive reviews, of course! A simple 'I like it!' or 'I don't like it' will suffice!**

**Tell me what you think and I'll post more, okay?**


	2. Chapter 2

Harry eventually had to wake up at six o'clock to make breakfast for his uncle, who had to go to work at seven, so his emerging vision was put on hold in the back of his mind. The darkness of the room gave way to sudden brightness when Aunt Petunia wrenched the door open and yelled, "Up! Get up! _Now_!"

Harry's glazed eyes reluctantly opened and fell on his aunt, who, in angered impatience, grabbed the boy by his shoulders and shoved him out the door. Harry fell to his knees from his drowsiness, unable to get his brain to work at the speed he needed to walk and completely wake up. Perhaps he should find another time to imagine.

"Get _up_! Go make breakfast for your uncle!" She screeched,

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry said vacantly.

He got up and slumped to the kitchen and set up the pans and ingredients for the more than enough breakfast. Still, in the back of his mind, there was Hogwarts forming and coming to and from his conscious continually as he cooked, resulting in a mediocre breakfast. This mishap did go unnoticed since the man gulped his food down in an instance, and began to sip his tea as Harry took his plate to wash.

'_… The school will be a castle in Scotland! I've always wanted to go there._' Harry thought as he did his second chore of the dishes, _'It would have a lake beside it, a black one, where there would be merpeople and an octopu-'_

"Boy!" Aunt Petunia screeched, Harry supposed using his first name would be too formal between them, "You have been cleaning the same plate for the last minute! Get your head out of your ass and get to work!"

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

Harry would have to only imagine when he wasn't so busy, which was during bedtime… Maybe, if he trained himself well he could have these thoughts of a new land whilst doing his chores and make both a success.

But how?

Is it possible to have two things going on at once in your brain and be fully concentrated on both? Harry would have to train his mind for this.

* * *

By the time Harry had finished his dish cleaning he went to the restroom to sit in quietness. He sat down leaning his back against the bathtub and let his feet rest on the carpet.

'_The restrooms at Hogwarts will be large enough to have a swimming pool_,' Harry thought, '_On second thought… the bathtub will be a swimming pool_.'

Harry opened his eyes and sighed in the darkness wondering what it would be like to be in a giant bathroom in Hogwarts… Like this mostly, he thought. Perhaps, he should have a friend who would live in the bathroom in case he needed a friend. A ghost friend! A girl… she must be sad, since she is a ghost, and all ghosts are sad, right? Harry imagined this white translucent girl in front of him, casting an eerie glow and hovering inches from the ground. A girl he had met before in school came to his mind, her name was Myrtle, and she would always be whining and crying so she came to be the owner of the nickname 'Moaning Myrtle' one year.

"Moaning Myrtle." Harry said aloud as his creation came into full view, with her glasses and her pigtails stuck in a perpetual pre-teendom with a sour look on her face.

As Harry's mind wondered to Hogwarts he also began to think of what sort of school it should be, since it _had_ to be special. How about… a magic school? Yes. Harry quite liked the idea of being able to learn magic. So, if he were being accepted into a school of wizardry… that meant he _himself_ was a wizard. How amazing it must be to be a wizard! Do spells, learn about divination and ride brooms! Harry loved magic, as he had read so many books about magic and witchcraft.

Suddenly, another thought came to Harry's mind; if he were a wizard… that would make his parents wizards, too. His mother, Lily Potter and his father James Potter could have gone to the school of Hogwarts when they were younger also! Harry smiled as he thought of parents who he could look up to; their proud faces filled his mind and he even thought of how people would compare him to them in school.

'You look just like your father, except the eyes, your mother's eyes.' They would say all the time, and it would even drive Harry mad how many times they said it. Oh, just imagining people fawning over him made him giddy. He'd never had anyone look at him except with disdain.

A change would be good.

**A/N**: LOL so about how Harry could read his clock when it was dark in chapter 1… I have no clue. I guess he could've felt for it, like touched the hands, but idk… SORRY THIS IS SHORT! I have so much I'm doing and BAAH! Just- sorry! OH and **I do not own Harry Potter! This is true for all chapters! **


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